Change of direction
by swift hunter
Summary: Set after Pitch Black with the CoR never happening. Riddick has tried his best to distance himself from Jack and Imam but the universe seems to have other plans. He's about to learn that all the power in the universe, really, can't change fate.
1. He died somewhere on that planet

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Pitch Black or The Chronicles of Riddick, nor do I own any of the affiliated characters.

Background:

Set after the events of Pitch Black. This story takes off on the emergency skiff with Riddick, Imam and Jack still recovering from the nightmare. I plan on avoiding the CoR altogether and go to a different place. I found it interesting that all the fanfics, I had read, that had Jack go with Riddick ended up with some sort of sexual relationship. I thought it would be interesting to see how far I could push the plutonic friendship barrier. But be warned some explicit chapters later on.

Rated for violence, sexual content, language...You have been warned

**He died somewhere on that planet**

Despite the blood loss he wouldn't dare drift to sleep. Even with his eyes closed he could see the final moments of Carolyn's life, as though she was dying all over again in front of him. Sure, he'd seen a hell of a lot of people meet their bloody end, in most of those cases he was the goddamn grim reaper but in all of his days he'd never had someone die for him, die to save him.

For the first time in so long he'd felt something close to a human being.

"How long until someone finds us out here?"

He'd kept the conversation limited to no more than one word replies but still the kid had kept talking. In the last few hours she covered every fucking topic, from the new deep space transmitters to the weather on Helion. God had some kind of humor, he'd gotten off one hell only to get himself stuck in another.

The holy man was asleep, if only Imam knew his luck. Jesus this kid had _him_ bordering on murderous. He'd survived through patience and self control and this kid was wearing him down to a pile of frayed nerves.

"JACK!!...asking ain't gonna make anything happen, so sit tight"

That little outburst seemed to quiet her down a tad. The sharp sudden throb brought his attention back to his leg. Putting his hand to it he found that it was still bleeding, _fuck!_

Before he could ask her to take a look, she'd already begun to pull out the small storage spaces looking for an emergency medical kit. He doubted if this piece of disposable shit had anything close to what he needed to clean up the open wound but he'd learned to make do a long time ago.

"This was all I could find!"

For an emergency skiff the medical supplies would be sufficient for anything other than an actual emergency. A roll of bandage, a needle and thread but that was it, no painkiller, and only a drop of disinfectant.

Without something to keep the wound clean, infection was sure to set in.

He didn't even have to say it because the look of defeat on his face said it all. He could see his own misery reflected in the startlingly green eyes that sat in the chair beside him.

"We could use a little of the water..."

The hunk only had a small in built reservoir that recycled water but that would only last so long. Besides, water wouldn't prevent infection.

"Listen kid...water's pretty fucking useless for anything other than drinking. Ain't gonna do shit to help me!"

He resisted the urge to lie back against the headrest of the chair and just die. He'd survived shit that would give Satan himself nightmares and here he was residing himself to death. He'd never felt so pathetic.

Closing his eyes for a brief second the clang of metal against metal startled him out of his thoughts.

"What the fuck!!"

The kid had opened the panel under the console and had her upper body stuck in. She was looking for something.

"Kid..."

Much to Riddick's annoyance there was no reply.

"JACK!!"

A head appeared with a very questioning look plastered across the face.

"Yeah...Riddick what is it?"

He didn't bother saying anything, too anxious about losing it completely. Riddick just pointed to the maze of wires she'd just been tangled up in.

"I'm just...looking for a secondary battery."

He didn't know what to ask first, what a secondary battery was, why she needed to find it or how she knew what a secondary battery was in the first place.

"I think there's a few things you need to explain to me kid!"

He wanted a few answers and he wanted them now. The creased brow and the low involuntary growl that followed the sentence left no illusions as to his present mood.

"I'll explain...I swear, but just give me a minute."

The look in her eyes was determined but pleaded with him all the same.

Reluctantly he sat back in the chair, he wasn't known for his trust and the thoughts of a thirteen year old girl screwing around with the wires on the only thing between him and the dark cold of space; that was not a comforting thought.

A few minutes later and the girl heaved a large square object out from all the wires. Her hands were covered in tiny scratches and she was oozing blood from a tiny cut above her eye. In all the rummaging around she must have caught herself on some sharp corners.

"Now...you wanna explain all this to me?"

Although it was phrased as a question you'd have to be fucking wasted to not recognize an order.

"The secondary batteries are charged by the cells and supply power to the console. Any direct power from the cells would fry the controls so main power charges the batteries and that powers the ships consoles."

Riddick had to tighten his jaw to hold back a smile, so the kid had talents. If something went wrong she would be very useful.

"And why is it out of the console?"

Jack got a very worried look in her eyes as she went to explain the reason behind that.

"Well... I might be able to fix the locator beacon but I need a low power energy source, direct from the cell, the transmitter would just fry."

All impulse of hiding his shock and relief vanished, as he recognized how much a beacon would improve their chances of survival. He took back everything he'd said earlier about wishing this kid got left on the rock.

"Kid... where _did _you learn about such _complicated _things? And I wonder as to why you didn't offer such useful skills to help back on the planet?"

The girls jaw tightened and Riddick could tell she was about to lie before she could even say a word.

"My father was a mechanic...and...you all got on fine without me."

Riddick locked eyes with her. His silver predatory gaze unflinching as he spoke.

"Remember who you're talk'in to kid"

To Riddick's disbelief she didn't recoil. He'd gotten used to his stare cracking the hardest of shells that he'd always assumed it would work. Despite her frail, weak appearance she was made of harder stuff.

"You don't believe me...fine...It's not as if I give a shit, and you ain't gonna get another answer. So...believe what you want"

The beast in Riddick rose just for a second to bask in the outward defiance. On some level the animal recognized the hidden claws and teeth, no way did you grow a set like hers coming from a happy home.

Riddick shot forward, his face just inches from hers,

"Really..._I'm_ not going to get another answer, am I? What about if I turn this thing around and set you back down on that planet...you think I might get an answer then?"

The girl was obviously frightened, fuck it, she wasn't dumb, but what was more concerning wasn't the fear, it was the anger. Riddick could smell it roll off her in waves.

"Oh yeah...you could do that, but this thing would probably break up in atmosphere."

Riddick gave her a slight grin,

"What about if I just ghost you right here."

The innocent air around the kid crumbled right before Riddick's eyes. You could have the cutest animal in creation, but back it into a corner and you find that even kittens have claws.

"And if a merc ship picks you up...what then...you tell them we slipped and fell on your shiv. Beside, we're the only proof you got that the, notorious, Richard. B. Riddick, murderer and escaped convict, died on that planet. Whether you like it or not, you need us more than we need you."

If he hadn't already been clenching his teeth he would have been slack jawed. While he didn't like to dwell on her last point too much; it somewhat upset him to think he needed anyone other than himself, she'd already confirmed what he'd guessed. The only way you learn to think that fast, is on the street. It made sense, the boys clothes, the attitude, even the way the kid looked up to him.

"So... where ya run'in from kid."

His immediate reaction to her face was to laugh, it was fucking comical.

"Why...do... you think I'm running."

The girl tried to hide the nervousness in her voice with a small forced laugh.

"Listen kid...I ain't gonna argue about this...and I sure as hell ain't in a position to give you advice."

A genuine smile crept into his features,

"I'll leave that to the holy man when he wakes up...now... really, where'd you learn all this shit?"

Riddick wasn't going to give up just because threatening her hadn't worked effectively.

When she took a deep breath and cleared her throat he was confident she would tell him the truth. He expected it to be somewhere along the lines of, abusive family, street runaway, the usual story. He couldn't believe the reality.

"You want the long mushy, or the short version."

The look on Riddick's face displayed a rapidly waning patience. She figured that meant that short story was her best bet.

"My parents where killed when I was seven, they were unlucky enough to get caught in the middle of a gang war. I got slung into about half a dozen foster homes, which I hated."

Riddick could understand that, nowadays most foster homes are run by greedy people who do it for a tax cut or for the small government checks. Some even slave out the kids

"I was already pretty handy with all kinds of technology and by complete accident I fell in with a group of hackers when I was just ten. They thought me the ropes and I learned pretty quick, I even crashed a few government systems when I was twelve ...but the fun didn't begin until I decided to try my hand at the latest software."

Riddick noticed her hands begin to twitch a little and that bothered him a whole lot more than he wanted. She was scared of his reaction.

"You ever hear about an underworld group called the Pegasus syndicate."

The only words that went through Riddick's head where extremely explicit profanities.

"Well...when a new software is developed it usually goes to the highest bidder, and I'm sure you know that the wealthiest bastards in the universe tend to be criminals. It just so happened that the Pegasus syndicate was the owner of said latest software and I kinda hacked them."

Riddick shook his head. He knew all about the syndicate, they where about gambling and slave trade, two of the most lucrative businesses in the universe and it was run by some of the most psychotic fucks in the galaxy. They had twisted ideas of entertainment. He'd heard stories about little kids being thrown to starving dogs just so these freaks could watch the kid get ripped apart. He may not have much of a conscience but he has a code and unnecessary torture ain't on his list of acceptable behavior.

"So let me hazard a wild guess and assume you tried to break their system and they caught you"

Jack let out a frustrated chuckle,

"I fucking wish, I didn't _try_ anything...I fucking crashed their systems on ten different planets, and I lost them over five billion creds."

Riddick had to push his chair back from the console so he could turn and fully face the kid. Fuck, even he'd heard about _that _and he'd been in solitary at the time. They'd said that some genius had brought the syndicate to their knees. They also said, that apparently, the leader was so pissed he shot the nearest person to him five times in the chest when he heard the news. It didn't help Riddick's, already, troubled mind when he remembered that the nearest person to Marcus Simons at the time had been his seventeen year old son.

"Kid...you know much about the syndicate?"

Jack apprehensively shook her head. Nervous with regard to even talking about it. The night they'd tracked her down was at present battling against her time on T2 for the top spot in her future nightmares list.

"Count yourself lucky kid, because if they catch you your gonna spend every last second of your life wishing you'd died back on that piece of shit planet."

The girl shuddered,

"I know"

Riddick left it at that, Christ, he'd better not tell her about the unofficial bounty of twenty million creds they put on the head of the Pegasus hacker. Jesus he thought he had problems with merc's. This kid, if word got out, would not only have merc's, but every son of a bitch with a ship and a gun on her ass. Riddick had to admit it to himself, he was way past jealous. The bounty on his head never went past 900 k.

"Get some rest kid."

He didn't have to say it twice, she was already out cold.

Turning back to his wound he cut away a part of the pant leg and got the first good look at the nagging injury. He laughed at himself, it wasn't anywhere as bad as he'd thought.

"I'm fucking losing it"

The cut was about two inches long and a half and inch deep, it just so happened that it'd nicked an artery.

Hence all the blood.


	2. Change of pace

**Change of pace**

Riddick sat in the shadowy corner of Imam's kitchen, she was late again. It'd been four years since T2 and with the reported demise of Richard. B. Riddick he'd found himself a sort of sanctuary on New Mecca. The planet's government didn't take to kindly to mercs and imposed strict time limits as to the length they could stay on the planet, it worked well for him. He'd even found himself a sort of profession. While gun trafficking was illegal, the law was foggy around the business of shivs. So he made blades and got well paid for it.

He had his own place but tonight he found himself sitting in the kitchen of one very nervous holy man. She had disappeared again, every three weeks or so she'd disappear for about a day and a half, no explanation, nothing. Normally this wouldn't have been Riddick's problem, he'd tried to push himself as far away from the kid as possible. He'd woken up one morning and there she was, a Riddick clone in the making. She didn't need to end up like him. But when Imam had called him this time he'd sounded nervous, he mumbled something about the last time and literally begged that he speak with her, that she was no longer listening to him. Riddick had grown familiar with the holy man and he'd found few things that Imam couldn't talk around.

The back door creaked open and a lithe figure crept silently into the room. The cloaks hood covering her face, she made her way to the fridge but stopped halfway.

"Christ...he called _you_?"

Riddick leaned forward into the light, placing both hands on the table. No matter how much he wanted to remain out of sight at times, the girl just had some internal Riddick sensor.

"I didn't know you cared...so what you gonna do, give me some lecture, tell me I don't wanna end up like you. I heard all this before"

Riddick was still curious as to why she hadn't turned to face him. Under normal circumstances having your back to a convicted murderer wasn't the smartest thing to do. That's when he caught it, the smell of blood.

"Jack...look at me! Now"

Slowly the seventeen year old girl turned to face him, her cheek was swollen, her lip was split and she was going to have one hell of a black eye. He hadn't seen her in over two years and the girl in front of him barely resembled the scrawny thirteen year old he'd rescued. She was the equivalent of a bombshell. She was tall, with long brown curly hair and jade eyes. Extremely cold jade eyes, fuck it she was pissed, really pissed.

"What's up with you Jack...Imam didn't fill me in on _why_ he almost wet himself when I told him I wouldn't come...why he's so jumpy, why this entire place smells like one giant pool of anxiety? So you gonna fill me in or what?"

Her voice was a mixture of barely contained rage and sorrow.

"Why do you wanna know...ain't as if you give a shit about anyone other than yourself"

Riddick could have literally howled in anger, like it did so often when he was aggravated the animal rose to the surface. In a lightening move he swiftly moved from his seat and crossed the kitchen, with one hand he caught her by the throat and lifted her up. She didn't bother to struggle she just hung there letting her feet dangle. His grip wasn't designed to cut off her air, just to immobilize her. The look in her eyes wasn't one of fear but amusement. It crossed his mind that she'd manipulated him into striking first.

"So...Jack...what now...you quite finished or do I have to finish it for you?"

Riddick, for a split second, wondered why she'd clapped her hands but the instant the lights came to full, and his retina's screamed blue murder, he knew. He already knew she was gone before he put on his goggles. It scared him a bit, to know that in all the time he'd spent with her, she'd gotten to know almost everything about him and yet he still didn't have a clue about her. As he'd released her from his grip her final words almost cut him.

"_You_ killed Jack... along time ago"

He didn't try to follow her, in fact he didn't move from the table. Not even when Imam came to see how things went, did he move.

"So I take it, things did not go as according to plan."

Riddick met the holy mans gaze,

"How long has she been like that?"

The holy man filled himself a glass of water and sat down opposite Riddick.

"From the day you left she has dwelt in a shadow, I fear Allah himself could not breach. Only recently has she started this...foolishness. I pray for her safety Riddick, she is willful but I fear her anger towards you will be her undoing."

As Riddick could always tell, Imam was keeping something from him.

"What else?"

The man feigned ignorance to Riddick's question.

"I don't know what you mean!"

Riddick smirked to himself,

"Listen holy man, there's a lot of fear in this house and I don't think it's all directed towards her safety...So what are you _really_ afraid of?"

Imam knew not to push a lie, especially when concerning Riddick,

"I waited for her to come home last time, I intended to broach the matter of her employer's broken arm, words were exchanged and I'm afraid we both lost our temper. I saw something in her eyes then that frightened me. Although I have seen it before, never in one so young. It was only then that I considered the negative repercussions of your leaving."

Riddick hung up on a few details of his story, that fact that she broke her employers arm and the fact that she'd made Imam lose his temper. Though he was living testimony to how aggravating the girl could be. He only had one question.

"So...what frightened you?"

Imam shivered thinking about it,

"Our words were heated and I said something's I shouldn't have. She was threatening but although her voice spoke of her anger her eyes where saying something different. She was enjoying the confrontation, that, I have only seen in one other person."

Riddick quickly stood and walked to the far end of the room, he knew Imam's next words before he said them.

"They reminded me of you..."

There was more to tell, but Imam knew that Riddick was already gone. Even though he hadn't heard the door, he simply knew.

* * *

The wind ripped against her face and the rain was pouring down but there was no way she'd go back with her tail between her legs. He was exactly as she'd remembered, that was how she knew that it wasn't him that had changed, it was her. She'd been on her own for so long and she'd looked up to him because she'd learned at a young age that there where only two types of people, predators and prey. He was a predator, the ultimate survivor and that had embodied her only goal in life. Now, how much she hated him.

He'd opened the door for her, showed her how to fight and then abandoned her to drown in her own black abyss. He'd shown her how to defend herself but he left without explaining the implications of killing. How for every life you take a piece of your soul gets stripped along with it, until all that's left is the animal you've become. She was only fourteen when she was attacked on the way home. She'd killed in self-defense but as she watched her attacker die she felt strangely empty of emotion. After her figure started to change, and she had no choice but to wear woman's clothes, it seemed she became a beacon for muggings and gangs attentions. She'd killed many times since then and now she no longer feared the darkness of her own soul, she welcomed it. Truth be told she still hated Riddick. She'd probably always hate Riddick.

She completely skipped past the line into the underground club, the bouncers pulling back the rope and letting her through without a word. No id, nothing. She no longer drew mischievous attention from criminals, only the odd glance of fear and hushed words. She walked past the numerous people on the dance floor and pushing a drunk off a bar stool she took his seat.

"The usual?"

She'd always ordered the same drink since coming to the club, the bartender had a bit of a thing for her but since turning him down the first time he knew enough not to press it.

"I need something stronger...double vodka...no ice."

The man smiled, she looked a lot worse than last time. It seemed her competitors where getting better.

"Rough day?"

The woman smiled back, the guy was one of the few genuine people around. He said what he meant and had a soft nature. He always cheered her up with that smile of his.

"Mark...you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

He set her drink down and watched as she knocked it back. He'd always been astounded by how much she could drink, she'd drank dozens of men under the table and had always been able to walk out without so much of an inkling that she ever touched a drop. She was a mystery to him.

The woman knocked back five or so more drinks before finally deciding that it was time to go. While she only entered once a month she figured that there was nothing stopping her now from going more often. So she wanted a clear head for tomorrows line up. Thinking back on her situation with Imam she decided that it was time to leave. She'd go back tonight, pack up her stuff and buy an apartment in the morning. She saved up quite a bit of cash, enough to buy herself a ship if she needed it.

She didn't have a doubt that if Riddick wanted to find her, he could. She only hoped he wouldn't try.

* * *

Riddick sat alone in the dark of his apartment, he preferred it like that. Usually he'd be doing something, making a blade, working out, but tonight he was being consumed by his own demons. He'd abandoned Jack to Imam's care because he didn't want her to become like him. Now it seemed that he might have caused that anyway. He knew what Imam had meant when he said she was enjoying the confrontation. He'd enjoyed fighting in the same way, or at least the animal did. Since getting off T2 that side of him retreated, crawling forward only when needed or when he was really upset. That was maybe what worried him, that part of him had appeared only after a lengthy line of, bloody, corpses. After all the death had stripped him of his conscience. The thought that the kid he remembered could be capable of doing what he himself had done for so many years made him sick to his stomach.

He needed to sort this out, he needed to find her and sort _her_ out.

* * *

She'd left no note, and had taken only what she'd deemed important. Nothing else but a few pieces of furniture remained in her room. Riddick looked on with a highly strung Imam pacing the corridor behind him.

"She must have cleared out her belongings in the night...I do not know where she could have gone."

Riddick didn't answer Imam, he wasn't good with the comforting thing and he honestly didn't know if he could make a damn bit of difference to the holy mans nerves. Hell, he didn't even know what he would say to Jack. If she was anything at all like him then a few words wouldn't nearly be enough.

He had nothing to go by but he'd walk every street in the city looking for her if he had to.

That was what he'd told himself as he'd wandered around the rougher parts of the city. His senses sharp and his footsteps silent stalked around until dark looking for any trace of her. When he was actually tired and close to giving up, he caught her scent.

He made his way closer to it, winding in and out of the narrow streets, until he finally spotted her cloaked form pass a few surely looking guards and a line of people to enter an underground club. He grinned to himself as he caught the name. The club was conveniently called "Underground".

"Hmm...no originality"

Just as he'd saw Jack do a few moments previous he walked right up past the line and made to go into the club.

One of the bouncers went to stop him but before anything unsightly could ensue the other one intervened in his behalf. Riddick's curiosity was peaked when the bouncer spoke to his obstacle.

"Just another fighter...let him through."

Riddick just got a blood free admission so he didn't question the matter. He was interested in this fight thing though. When he made it down the steps he was almost knocked over by the smells, sweat and booze. Now he knew why he avoided these places. Holding his breath he walked out and was greeted by a slender, slick haired rat of a man who absently announced to him.

"All fighters take the elevator in the room at the end. Once you're down there you'll be required to sign a waver before you'll be allowed fight. The reigning champions matches are in a few minutes, after that there's a half hour gap to let new fighters sign up."

Riddick's eyes spotted the tail of a cloak disappear in the elevator before the doors closed.

Without thinking he followed suit.

When the elevator came to a stop he was greeted with a host of men, around fifty, all surrounding an enormous pit like arena, built into the floor. In the center stood a guy about two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle. A portion of the men around the arena where chanting his nickname. While he flexed his large muscles and roared his impending victory.

Riddick spotted a betting agent ringside and he thought it a good place to get information.

Although the place was packed he didn't seem to bump into anyone as he made his way over to the edge and stood right beside the agent.

"You wanna place a bet?"

Riddick was cool headed and freakishly casual,

"I'm new here... wouldn't really be smart to place a bet when I haven't seen the fighters before. Who's in this match?"

The man laughed,

"Our reigning champion versus "The destroyer"."

Riddick looked to the man in the ring,

"_He's_ your reigning champion?"

The betting agent laughed again except this time it was filled with disbelief.

"Nah...Jesus, I give this guy fifteen seconds in the ring with Reaper. This idiot's a complete amateur, only way he gets to fight with the champ is 'cos he paid, otherwise you need to start at the bottom and work up a score"

Riddick turned back to assess the fighter, he had faith in betting agents knowledge of fighters, they usually knew what they where talking about, so if he said that the champion could defeat this guy so easily, he must be some fighter. It hadn't completely left his mind what he was doing here in the first place but he was interested in this place to watch one fight at least.

When the crowd cheered and almost everybody began a deafening chant of "Grim Reaper" Riddick was drawn to the sand filled pit as the reigning champion walked in.

"You've got to fucking with me"

* * *

Jack had removed her cloak and she now stood not too far from her over bearing opponent. She wore, flat soled, knee high boots, a pair of flexible form fitting pants, the ends of which disappeared underneath the top of her footwear. She had a leather corset with two large square panels hanging down in the front and in the back and she was wearing a pair of leather vambraces, custom fitted and reaching her elbow. Her usual loose wild hair was tied tightly into a bun.

Riddick was still completely stunned when the fight began, his brain barely processing the fact that little Jack the hacker was in a ring against a guy three times her size.

She didn't know why these guys called themselves fighters, it crossed her mind that once they put on a few pound of muscle they just proclaimed themselves champions with stupid self given titles like "Destroyer" or her personal favorite "Champion of the universe". She hadn't picked her ring name, they'd chanted it after her first match. _They'd_ named her, and it fitted her well. She didn't have to fight every night to maintain the champions title, her wins over the last year had kept her score way above the rest. You had to work your way up the ranks to get to face her and she enjoyed knocking them back down the list.

She looked at the beast of a man in front of her, and swore he just grunted. These kind of fuckers could only get to face her if they paid, otherwise they'd have to slowly work up a score. Looking at him, he had no scars, all his teeth where still intact, he even had all his hair. Everything about the guy she was facing told her that he was an overbuilt pretty boy. But then again that was why he was her first match. Just an appetizer for the real fights later on. Her warm up.

As she stood stretching her anxious muscles, he charged. She supposed that his intention had been to catch her off guard but he was slow and she easily side stepped. She even stuck out her foot and tripped him as he passed. Landing ungracefully with a loud thud the crowd cheered again. As he pushed himself to his feet she pretended to pick at her nails, purposefully ignoring his verbal slander about how she was just a weak little girl and how he was going to crush her.

His next attack was perhaps a bit more cautious but still extremely sloppy. She ducked underneath a meaty right hook and brought her boot, full force, up into his crotch. When he was doubled over she put her fist into his throat. While she could have just winded him the force caused the immediate collapse of his wind pipe and the crowd roared as he slowly suffocated. She was actually disappointed with that, not much of a warm up. She patiently waited on her next match up and was rewarded with a real challenge. A definite experienced fighter. His nose had been broken twice at least and he'd a long scar along his side. Probably a knife wound.

"You know...I really didn't believe it when they said you was a chick."

The ice cold jade glare of his opponent didn't falter as she completely ignored him. She'd assessed him as a challenger, a rival and everything else at that moment ceased to exist.

He started with a few safe jabs to the mid section but she easily deflected. Both fighters moving around, circling each other, testing the defenses, it was almost like a dance. Each one biding their time, waiting for the other to make a mistake. It was her opponent that saw his opportunity first. He saw an opening in her defense and lunged forward. On all accounts his fist should have connected with her ribcage but as he rushed forward she performed a flawless back flip. The only thing that ended up connecting was his face with her feet. He was out cold by the time she landed, his nose broken again and a few teeth short.

* * *

Riddick watched the crowd cheer once more, he didn't recall teaching her half the shit she was pulling. That flip thing was good though, and she certainly knew how to manipulate others. She'd purposefully left that spot open so he could attack. She was a very smart fighter. Then again this wasn't much of a competition just yet, these where the teasers.

* * *

Once again she waited for her opponent but before he came out the weapons rack was lowered from the ceiling. She hated these fights, blood was one universal bitch to wash off and frankly she'd gotten far too many scars. It had to be her next opponent who requested a weapons match. That meant he had to be good. Looking at the weapons rack she noticed the Katana was missing. If you wanted a weapons match you had to choose your weapon in advance so the same weapon could be removed from the selection. It kept it interesting if both fighters used different ones. She had only seen this type of sword used once before and looking at the wide selection in front of her she opted to match it with a twin set of Saber's.

Two was better than one and the curved swords meant she could keep distance and have one more blade. Most people kept away from double handed weapons but she'd always been a little ambidextrous, trained properly she could use her left just as good as her right.

Jack had barely noticed the oddly dressed competitor who stood with the sword clutched in both hands. She readied herself as best she could trying to remember watching this weapon in motion. The bell went and the fight began.

His attack was swift and it was only good instinct that let her block with her left and counter with her right. Once he'd completed his initial attack, she began with her own. Stabbing with her left and slicing with her right blade, she twisted and ducked kicking out trying to catch his feet. He was fast though and kept just out of her reach. She would have to work for her win this time. She knew that, there wasn't a part of her that didn't respect this type of skill.

As she deflected another precision blow her eyes caught something in the crowd. She'd always kept her eyes off the crowd because she knew they where nothing more than a distraction. A fast way to get yourself killed. But those goggles, they looked so much like his. As her mind made the connection to Riddick she barely had time to notice the blade coming right across her stomach. Throwing herself to the side she avoided death but the sting of the metal told her she wouldn't walk away form this one without another scar.

Anger boiled to the surface. That was something she just didn't apply in a fight but seeing him standing there watching her, distracting her and almost getting her killed. That was really, really upsetting. Rolling to her feet she stood, pushing the pain and stinging out of her mind she gripped the hilts with blood covered hands. She forced herself to waver slightly and as she'd predicted her combatant took the opportunity to strike. Expecting it she dropped and spun around his charge, dragging her blade across the back of his right leg causing him to stumble. With anger fuelled strength she rushed him from behind and forced him to the ground. His blade flying out of his hands. By the time he'd turned around she was standing over him, both swords blade down on each side of his throat. He knew he was beaten. What he didn't know was with such a long and bloody kills score why she still hadn't decapitated him. When the match horn sounded, signaling her victory, she passed both blade hilts to one hand and offered him a help up. With one leg unable to support weight he gladly accepted.

"You could have killed me?"

He didn't care if it sounded odd but he wanted to know why.

"I could have...but then again you are the best I've fought so far...I'm hardly going to kill you _now_, this here scar's earned you a rematch"

The young man had spent his entire life around the blade, up until this point he'd considered himself the best there was. He'd been humbled, by a woman no less, but he didn't feel bad about that. He may have lost a match but he'd gained something better, a worthy rival and a little humility. She'd even given him a chance to walk away to improve his skills and fight again.

With effort he stood on his own and bowed to the young girl, after a little hesitancy she returned the gesture. With a firm grip on her wrist he thrust her hand in the air above her head. She unknowingly had blushed.

* * *

With the last amateurs match over the crowds began to fade. Only a handful of die hard fans stuck around to congratulate the fighters. Riddick almost choked himself on that thought, Jack had fans. It was official, he was going insane. He had to admit it to himself but she was good, damn good. In fact she'd have walked away without a scratch tonight if she hadn't spotted him. He'd distracted her and he knew it, boy was she going to see spots when she caught up with him.

* * *

Jack suppressed a limp and quickly stemmed the blood flow with some gauze from the medical kit in the side room. She was trying to avoid meeting Riddick, she knew she would completely lose it. That little voice in her head was screaming for blood.

"SON OF A BITCH, HAD SOME NERVE!"

Jack pounded her fist off the simple steel table in the center of the room. She made up her mind, she was going to ignore him, go home and clean herself up. He wasn't a part of her life anymore. To him, Jack was dead.


	3. What's it gonna be

**What's it gonna be**

The bouncers clapped her on the back on the way out, they'd get the match recorded and watch her fight while on their breaks. It was flattering and usually she'd take it as a complement but tonight her mind was elsewhere. Her eyes and ears searching for him. He hadn't been waiting for her when she'd collected her prize money, nor had he been outside. That meant he would surely be following her home.

Whilst the idea of being followed would make most people nervous, the fear of death had made Jack numb to most things. When you spend so long on your own, even though the world is dark, there's always hope. She'd found that hope, touched that light only to have it burn her fingers and fade into nothing. She didn't need it anymore, she hated it, despised that brightness. She hated Riddick for abandoning her. Showing her that someone cared and then taking it back. She didn't care if he followed her, in fact, she now had the opportunity to make her feelings clear to him, once and for all.

* * *

She sat, waiting in the darkness of her living room. She knew he would be coming, like you can feel the storm on the horizon, she knew. She took another swig from the vodka bottle on the table. Alcohol numbed the pain, both the physical kind and the other kind.

She unexpectedly laughed, practically choking on the vodka.

"You gonna stand there all night...or just until I fall asleep and you can ghost me?"

Jack laughed but when Riddick stepped out of the shadows he wasn't smiling.

"You know...I didn't even hear you come in, I don't know but the room just seems to drop about ten degrees when you enter. Funny that."

Riddick stepped forward and went to snatch the bottle out of her hands. She was much faster and moved it just beyond reach.

"I'm not _that_ drunk Riddick! And I'd prefer you keep your hands off my booze"

Riddick took a seat across the coffee table and facing the young woman he planted his feet on the table.

"So...Jack...how long you been doin' that?"

She took another gulp before putting the half empty bottle down on the table.

"About two years."

Riddick snatched the bottle and took a long gulp, Christ, he needed a drink to get this done right.

"May I ask why...I'm sure the money ain't bad kid but there's plenty ways to make a livin'."

Jack snorted at him, maybe he had changed.

"Fuck, Riddick you've gone soft on me...and for your information the money is quite good, I probably get more than you."

Riddick laughed, that deep timber sound that sent shivers up the spines of most mercs.

"What... a few lousy hundred creds each fight, after about two years you got what...fifty thousand creds, max ...Kid, you know better."

Jack laughed at this, as though he'd just made some hilarious joke,

"Riddick, you of all black hearted bastards should know that assumption is the mother of all fuck ups...and if you take that number...multiply it by four and add a zero on the end. Then your comin' close to what I have rollin' around in _my_ account.

Riddick was slightly concerned that she could be getting paid that much.

"No prize fighter earns money like that!"

Jack slowly stood and made her way into the kitchen. Her footsteps as silent as Riddicks had been.

"You can check if you want...but my fights get broadcast across a half dozen worlds, not just those little shit hole you saw tonight, big gamblers. Because I brought in the crowds I demanded a cut. I get a percentage of all off world profits."

Riddick had known the kid was smart but something didn't seem right. For instance how'd she learn to fight like that, he sure as hell didn't teach her that kind of shit. Second, she was only seventeen now. How'd you get into something like that when you're only fifteen. Shit didn't make sense.

"Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

Jack just tilted her head to the side, a wry smile playing at her lips.

"Around...sort of picked things up. I saw, I mimicked, I mastered. I've always been good with new skills."

Riddick couldn't argue with that, she was like a fucking sponge for information when he'd first met her. All of a sudden the tiny pieces of her life began forming a picture for Riddick.

"Holy shit...Jackie, Jackie, Jackie...how come you never said anything to me."

Jack froze and Riddick sensed the first real feelings of unease roll of her, she quickly squashed it though and gave him the completely innocent look she'd mastered before they'd met.

"Don't play dumb with me... you're a fucking Omega kid!"

A while back this doctor, hold up in a dump of a hospital on Lupus 5, claimed to have found a way to treat infertility. He'd temporarily alter the patients DNA to produce stem cells and repair the reproductive organs with the newly made cells. The procedure was successful in every case but after the kids where born the mothers tended to die off pretty quick. They found that the resulting kids where way smarter than normal, learned at a faster rate, even the procedural part of their memory was better. But because of the linked parent deaths the entire thing was shut down. These kids where taken in by the military, not only because of the high I.Q' but the procedural memory made combat as natural to them as breathing. It all fit, hacking government facilities at the age of ten, the ability simply watch a move being performed and repeat it. Even the Riddick sensor that she seemed to have.

"So now you guessed it...I'm a freak."

Riddick cringed at the derogatory way the word "freak" fell out of her mouth. He knew from experience that if someone calls you something everyday, true or not, you start believing it.

"That's what they'd call me. My mom died giving birth, and before you ask, yes my father's dead, he was murdered"

Her jaw tightened, which Riddick had always found indicated some kind of lie in process, or in Jacks case, some half truth.

"but before it crosses your mind, no... I didn't kill him"

Riddick tried to process all of this new information. He'd always known that there was more to the eye with Jack. He never could have guessed. Fuck it, he never had a clue about Jack. She was always just a kid to him, even now after he'd seen her kill a man three times her size without breaking a sweat and beat another experienced fighter six ways from Sunday, he was still calling her kid.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Jack was still standing but couldn't bring herself to answer him. She'd been afraid of his reaction. Her own father, for fucks sake, had beat her down calling her a sideshow freak. She didn't want to see him look at her like that. Plus she was still pretty upset about him leaving her.

Riddick's patience grew extremely thin, it didn't seem as though she was even listening to him.

"JACK...ANSWER ME!"

He moved from the chair and roughly spun her around to face him. The wrist he caught almost slipped from his grasp. Her hands where covered in warm blood. He held onto her and in the darkness of the room he saw her eyes flutter closed.

* * *

He had no choice but to lie her on the kitchen table. The blood was still spilling out past the soaked gauze and was dripping onto the table. He pulled the apart the small apartment until he found her first aid kit. At least she kept it well stocked. He'd kept his goggles on this time in case she pulled some kind of trick but now he ripped them off. The wound was long, deep and would need stitches. Not only on the outside, on the fucking inside as well. The only reason her guts hadn't fallen around at her feet was because of the well worked abdominal muscles and the thick leather protection she wore.

Riddick cut some of the leather away to get at the wound better and found himself greeted with the tail ends of many more scars. Some where faint, others where jagged and hadn't been given the time to heal properly. Then, then there were the old ones. He had enough of them himself to know that some of the scars going around on her back were at least ten years old. They were bad and she must have only been about seven when she got them.

Forcing out those thoughts for the moment he went back to the table and grabbed the vodka bottle.

"This is for you're own good Jackie"

He poured some of the bottles contents into the deep wound. He had to hold her back down as she struggled and twisted in pain, even though she was only semi-conscious.

When she calmed down a bit, he got to work. He'd had to stitch himself up so many times and knew so much about the human anatomy, he could probably qualify as a medic by now.

He never recalled being so nervous before, her life was literally in his hands.

The internal stitches were the worst. He found it hard to continue with so much blood in the wound but he no choice but to continue, dousing his work with alcohol every so often. When he'd finished that, he tried to make the outside suture's neat, but no matter how good you were, no surgeon in the world was gonna hide that beast of a scar.

He couldn't figure out what he was going to tell Imam. The holy man had some odd, and at times hypocritical, views on morality. How he'd take the fact that little Jack was the killer they all feared she'd become. Yeah, killer and then some. He honestly didn't know, he had mental images of Imam becoming violent. Hell, the repercussions might just be worth seeing _that_.

* * *

Jack was extremely hazy when she finally began to stir. She could remember fighting, winning, walking home, then there was all the drinking, worrying, more drinking, again more drinking. Then her mind snagged on the proverbial root. _Riddick! Christ...I fucking told Riddick! FUCK. FUCK .FUCK._

Jack bolted up in the bed.

"OOOUUUCHH! FUCK!!"

She instantly regretted that maneuver and fell back down. Putting her hand to her agonizing side she quickly withdrew, wincing at how much pain she was in.

A still figure across the room couldn't help but explode in a fit of laughter. Not dawn yet, the room was still cloaked in the last hours of shade, so the silver animated eyes where bare to the world and flashing with a feral gleam.

"I gotta tell ya...you have to be one tough, crazy, bitch...walkin' home with that. Lucky that blade didn't gut you like a fucking fish."

Jack noticed she was lying in her own bed and her side had been stitched and bandaged.

"How long was I out?"

Riddick grunted, she was acting like she'd someplace to be.

"About three hours. I'd have wagered on you being out cold all day, lost a lot of blood, plus all that vodka. You're probably feelin' those effects already."

Jack laughed out loud, the first time Riddick had heard her give a genuine chuckle that wasn't filled with spiteful anger.

"No fucking kidding...remind me to bin every fucking bottle of booze in this dump."

As the moment of mirth passed, Jack became solemn once again.

"I still hate you...this ain't ever gonna change that."

Riddick's voice had retreated to a steady rumble. His hands were rubbing his bald head, the only outward sign of his troubled mind.

"I know, kid...I know"

* * *

Jack just lay there, she'd been taught, over time, to push back the physical pain. Numb yourself through pure concentration. It wasn't really working, she was once again distracted.

He'd left a while ago but said he'd come back and check on her. She couldn't walk without ripping her stitches and causing herself some serious, serious pain. So in the morning light of the room she just lay there. Thinking, really thinking. In her inebriated state, her mind had accidentally stumbled across something. A knowledge, while she was angry at Riddick, it was herself she was truly hating. She'd been abandoned, yes, but she'd let herself fall into the darkness. Let one bad night consume her. Killing had been the easy way out at the time and she'd given in. Sure, Riddick was a bastard, but she was a moron.

Her thinking continued until her hangover headache became too much. Looking at her watch on the dresser she noticed the time. Pretty soon a certain someone was going to get a little paranoid if she didn't walk through their door and that person upset was not something you wanted happening. Riddick was a puppy dog in comparison.

Try as she might she couldn't reach the phone and her body refused to accept any orders to move. She only hoped that they'd come, check on her and leave before Riddick got back. She didn't want to clean up after _that_ mess.

* * *

Riddick had left to go speak to Imam. He'd leave her settle a little bit. He knew he'd made some progress but things kept creeping into his mind. Like he knew those kids could learn fast and she'd only really have to see something once to memorize it, but she'd have to see it at _least_ once. He'd never seen the same style of fighting before, that meant that some combat genius had created it himself. He also knew that bastards like that, tend to get upset if you steal their thunder, so to speak. Someone showed her those moves. Had to, no other way.

A sudden chill swept down Riddicks spine. His instincts where telling him to go back. That gut feeling was literally the only thing in the Universe that Riddick trusted, the only thing that hadn't let him down. Imam could wait, something was going down.

* * *

Riddick crept in the door. Locking it behind him he silently made his way around. Nothing seemed out of place and he couldn't smell anyone. As he began to pin all this down to some returning bout of paranoia he heard some muffled cries in the bedroom.

His chest constricted and he raced inside almost taking the hinges off the door. To his relief she was just dreaming. Tossing and turning, gripped in some nightmare. Walking over to her side he gently gripped her shoulders and gave her a little shake. She was still struggling in her dream and in an instant her thrashing suddenly became more violent. Riddick only heard one discernable word when she screamed. A name "Tess".

That was the last thing he heard before a feral roar erupted from his right and a fist slammed into the side of his head.


	4. Tess

**Tess **

The, unexpected, impact jarred his teeth and sent him tumbling off the bed and onto the floor. He soon found himself struggling with a cloaked figure who had literally thrown themselves on top of him.

Hearing the subtle ping, he knew the assailant had some sort of shiv or blade. His fears were confirmed when he felt the sharp sting at his throat and a trickle of warm blood run down the back of his neck.. Pushing with everything he had, he forced the cold edge of the blade away from his throat and with a little more effort he brought his foot up underneath his attacker and kicked out with as much power as he could summon.

He watched as the figure was hurdled back and straight through Jack's bedroom wall, into the living room. The smash of wood and glass indicated a, non too pleasant, landing on the coffee table. Darting to his feet, he quickly followed out through the gaping hole he'd just made, ready to finish the fight. He'd expected to see a semi conscious body, in a heap on the floor, but there was nothing.

Just as he hadn't sensed the presence to begin with he didn't find it now. That really freaked him out beyond anything words could convey. Whoever this person was, they where extremely good and moved with an abnormal speed. He fingered his own shivs and silently drew them out. He hadn't had any good practice in quite a while and this could prove interesting.

Making his way into the center he kicked the couch aside, along with the few larger pieces of coffee table. Feeling the smallest of breezes on the back of his neck, he spun in time to block a very familiar shiv. It was one of _his_ making. It was a foreign thought that he'd almost been killed by a blade he'd made himself. Imam would probably say it was a sign from God to quit the weapon making business.

All these random thoughts blurred through his head as the fight erupted. His other half taking over, as the movements on both sides became automatic and practiced. The swipes and blocks, the lunges and kicks, it was a hard fight to follow. Even in the morning light the figures would have looked to be nothing more than dancing shadows.

Riddick was by no means winning this fight, frankly he was having hard time gauging exactly where cloak ended and flesh began. It seemed every slash that should have made contact, simply caught nothing but air and cloak. It was annoying, highly annoying. As his opponent made a swipe for his head he dropped and catching the end of the cloak, he imbedded his shiv into the floor. This pinned the cloak and the owner was forced to let it fall or risk becoming a punching bag.

Riddick watched the cloak pool on the floor and he honestly couldn't find words to describe what he saw. It wasn't a he, but a she. Not just a she but, damn, she was severely pissed. While Jack may have been cold and manipulative the woman standing before him, with dual blades and a look that said "bring your throat to my knife", was the epitome of dangerous. She was wearing a feral snarl, worthy of the Riddick hall of intimidating glares. Riddick could tell from the look, that this was a duel to the death. Whatever he thought he could have done to upset this wildcat, he sure would be only too happy to apologize if she'd tell him what it was.

As Riddick moved in to continue, he watched, curiously, as the woman was hit in the side of the head with the bedroom phone. The blow didn't injure her but in its stead, left the woman with a somewhat confused expression.

Riddick would have taken the off guard moment and struck her down but before he could move, he too was whacked in the head with something heavy. Both fighters simultaneously turned to face Jack who was sitting up in the bed with her arms crossed. Donning a very, scary, red faced expression.

Riddick watched as the woman froze and relaxed her stance, still weary but the killer look had subsided. Letting her eyes linger on Riddick for a moment longer she turned to Jack who was trying to look strong and menacing, but having no such luck. Riddick could see understanding dawn in her eyes. Leaving her cloak where it lay she made it to her bedside in about two leaps.

"Firstly, I didn't realize you were expecting company...JESUS that hurt and...Christ, look at what _he's_ done to your new apartment!"

Riddick couldn't help but snit at her choice of words 

"Me?... last I checked there were _two_ people in that fight!"

The woman for the first time turned to Riddick and with a "matter of fact" tone, gave him a tongue lashing.

"I seem to remember _your _foot, kicking _me _through the wall."

Riddick gave a snort and a low growl but the woman huffed, mirroring his non too subtle noise.

"Oh shut up...if I break your legs with a bat, who are you going to blame for breaking your legs... me...or the bat"

Riddick looked confused but just pointed at her.

"Great...so if you throw me through the wall...who's gonna get the blame...me... or you?"

Riddick chuckled, shit she had him right there.

A very agitated voice from the bed, silenced the woman.

"Tess...are you quite finished bickering over fucking nothing. Tess meet Riddick, Riddick this is Tess. Now, I'd like both of you to leave...now!...I don't even know what _you're _still doing here, Tess. I asked you to leave already_"_

Riddick noticed the woman, pale and take a step back. She left without a rebuttal, smart comment or display of emotion, only Riddick seemed to see that her coloring had suddenly become ten shades lighter. Riddick quickly followed her back out into the living room. Seeing that Jack had collapsed back into her pillow mumbling something about crazy people and angry neighbors.

In the living room, the woman, despite being ordered out, began tidying up the mess. The coffee table was demolished and it, along with the shards of glass everywhere, got swept up and put in the bin. Riddick noticed that she cleaned meticulously. And when the couch had been pulled back into the middle of the room the woman went and retrieved her cloak.

"SON OF A BITCH!!"

Hearing how loudly she said it, she instantly clapped a hand over her mouth. Holding up her now tattered and shredded cloak she just threw it in the bin with the rest of the rubble.

Riddick was watching all of this with interest.

He now had a good look at the woman, she had dark blond hair tie up in a tight bun. She wore a pair of worn leather trousers and combat boots. She had a black tank top and a belt with various numbers of small disposable blades. She was very muscular for a woman. Not the type of muscle hidden under a few layers of fat, no, this was on view for the world to see. Most men would have considered it abnormal but Riddick admired nothing more than good survival traits. He could see a very distinguishable scar running along her collar bone as well as numerous small ones on her arms and the side of her neck. A lot of very close calls.

She moved with a grace designed for predators, and she had that permanent "touch me and die" look in her eyes. As he watched, she arched her back and he heard the bones reset themselves. He could see her rolling her shoulder and from the look of the joint, there was going to be a little bit of swelling.

"Fucking kick _me _through the wall..._then_ you shred my cloak. Bastard!!"

Riddick was startled out of his momentary trance when she spoke.

"Yeah...well I wasn't exactly in a peachy mood after that punch to the head" 

The pair where still extremely cautious about each other. Everything said and done was done in a slow, open manner. Even the snide comments and odd joke, held a sort of paranoia filled tension.

"Just heard the screams and when I saw you standing over her...Well, what the hell was I supposed to think?"

Riddick took the opportunity to question this "Tess" more thoroughly, all the while sitting at his leisure, on the couch.

"So how do _you_ know Jack?"

The woman quieted and her expression became statuesque. It seemed as though the air around her became colder and Riddick could see her mind contemplate telling him the truth.

"If she hasn't told you...then I think it was for a good reason"

Riddick wasn't at all surprised at the woman's closed attitude.

"So...you just come to her rescue and tackle me without hesitation. Must be close friends."

The woman's face stayed calm and expressionless but her voice betrayed her real anger and hurt.

"Jack and I aren't what you'd call "friends"...she gets herself into messes and I get her out of them"

Riddick would never have guessed that this, cold, ferocious, shiv happy bitch would be the kind to just drop everything and run to Jacks aid every time she calls. It seemed like she knew she was being used, then treated like shit, but she was ok with it. If he'd have guessed he'd said she was acting out of guilt.

"You..._ok_ with that arrangement?"

The woman stiffened a little and gave a jaw clenching grin,

"That is completely none of _your_...goddamn business"

The woman didn't bother to stay, she pulled one of Jack's cloaks out of the corner closet and wrapped it around her shoulders. Sparing a glance in the direction of the bedroom she turned to Riddick and that murderous look was back.

"Touch her, hurt her, upset her in any way...and I'll castrate you with a plastic spoon."

The threat didn't wash over Riddick lightly, he knew she wasn't kidding. Something about the spoon bit struck a cord. He'd killed a man with a plastic spork before but he guessed it was just a random thoughtless threat.

While this stranger obviously heeded Jack's order to get out, he was going to wait until she woke up and then he was going to get some clearly defined answers, or try anyway. Everything she'd ever told him had been a twist of the truth. Not that he didn't admire that foresight, but when all he'd tried to do was help he didn't appreciate being deceived.

* * *

Murphy's law had brought Jacks earlier fears to light. The only consolation was that they hadn't killed each other. That was a small consolation though when you're looking out a, rather large, gaping hole, into your living room.

She'd told Tess to leave before Riddick arrived but she'd fallen asleep. Obviously that woman had stuck around longer than she should have.

Jack knew that Riddick wasn't going to leave her alone, so when she woke up she was either going to be faced with, both shiv happy interrogators, or just Riddick but one way or another she would be facing questions. The only thing that was going through her mind was whether she could tell the truth. Or would she fall back on some old habits and lie through her teeth.

"Jack...I know your awake...you seem to forget who you're dealing with here!"

Jack slowly opened her eyes and found him sitting in the corner of her bedroom. His face was once again expressionless, never a very encouraging sign. The only time he went completely stone cold was when he was overwhelmed with conflicting feelings.

"Interesting friend you got..."

She saw him push back a slight smirk at the mention of Tess but hadn't had enough experience with his _happy_ emotions to identify why. She knew he was stalling so she waited for his next question.

"I gotta say...I don't know whether to be impressed that you kept so many lies runnin' all these years or upset that you fucking lied to me from the beginning. It's a dilemma...so, what do _you_ think I should do about this little fuck up of a situation?"

Jack knew this was some kind of mind game. He wanted her to spill it all but she'd learned long ago how to deal with questions. First give them the obvious lie, then when they threaten you, you give a plausible half truth. What concerned her was, that it had already worked once and he'd learned from the mistake, would it work a second time. Jack opted for neither.

"I think you should be happy Tess didn't kill you...and leave"

Jack's voice wavered at the end of the sentence, and lacking any kind of force or determination all she got was a low growl in response. Followed by, of course, more questions.

"Speaking of the bitch wonder, how the hell do you get off treating someone, that put their neck on the line for you, as though they're trash. That woman's gonna have a hell of a lot of bruises because of you and you basically spat in her face. Fuck it Jack, the woman even cleaned up for you."

Riddick had never heard Jack snarl before, he'd never really seen her have anything more than a teenage tantrum. This though was scary, her face was practically cherry red.

"You think she did that for me? She's the definition of the word monster. And cleaning...she did that because she has a hygiene compulsion. I only ask for her help when I _absolutely_ have no choice. Don't go round thinking she's doing this for me, she just does it to sate her own, very, guilty conscience...Now...GET OUT OF MY APARTMENT!!."

Riddick wasn't one to back down easily but Jack had kept all those lies for so long that threats would undoubtedly fail in cracking the shell. Rubbing his head, he stood as though to leave but as he strolled out the door, he threw one more question at her.

"So...this Tess...what'd she do?"

Jack face twisted in a little pain and discomfort.

"She murdered my father."


End file.
